


patronym

by goukyorin (sashimisusie)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashimisusie/pseuds/goukyorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are more alike in more ways than either of them realize.<br/>A collection of drabbles centered around Herc and Chuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. words

For [nyoronchan](http://nyoronchan.tumblr.com/).

*

He is, in many ways, his father’s son. Chuck is headstrong and cocksure, without the years of experience and weariness to temper the edge of his words or the pull back on the strength behind his fists. 

Sometimes, Herc wonders if Chuck would have turned out different if he’d given him more hugs. But it’s a little late to think of that now. The words fail him now, as they have before. Herc is his son’s father, after all.

With his voice cracking, he calls out, “That’s my son you got there.”

He knows Chuck understands.


	2. memo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: how many times a day do you think Herc tells himself it should have been him in that Jaeger instead of chuck?

Every breath, slow and steady in through his nose and out through his mouth, reminds Herc that he’s still alive. Sometimes that fact hurts more than it should. The dead don’t feel, after all.

There’s a sentiment out there, that children should bury their parents. A father should never have to outlive his son.

When it rains, as it often does, his arm aches in the spot where the bone was set. He’s not as young as he used to be; he doesn’t heal as quickly as a man half his age would.

Like Chuck would. If it was possible for anyone to bounce back from a thermonuclear explosion, it’d have been his hot-headed, beloved son.

When the rain hits the windows, when he sighs in between thundering droplets, when the soft pound of his heart pushes blood through his body, he remembers.

He’ll never forget that it should have been him.


End file.
